Monday, March 2, 2009

Bills, Bills, Bills

I know what it's like to be hounded by the debt collectors. The mortgage companies. The debt consolidation companies. The phone calls, the messages, the mailings...

Why do I know this? Am I overdue on payments? Do I have huge debt?*

No, but Bill does. And isn't he oh-so-aptly named?

I am assuming that Bill was the previous tenant of my apartment. I am now fielding mail and calls for this man and his financial disaster. So. Much. Debt. (Okay, okay, I accidentally opened the first erroneous mailing and saw the numbers. Eeks!)

Ever since I connected my land line, my calls are not from friends but very official sounding people demanding that I, Bill, call them and SHOW THEM THE MONEY! Lots of references to case numbers and other scary things.

Bearable for awhile, then it was clear it wasn't going to stop. So, I diligently write down the numbers and make my oh-so-courteous call to let them know that this is an apartment, he doesn't live here, etc. etc. It's slowly petering out.

But what a glimpse into another's life. Can you die from secondhand stress?

*Well, student loans and other things, but, for now, still good.

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